If You Say It with Your Hands
by orangeyouglad8
Summary: Brittana. Canon. End S2-Pre S3. "It's these moments you live for. The quiet moments after you've both shattered. The ones you chase all day, every day. Since you knew what was at the end of the race." One-Shot.


You want her to stay.

Here in your bed.

But also open, wanting.

She never does.

Her skin cools against yours and her walls come back up.

You see it in her eyes. The way they change, no longer the black depths of longing, but the polished color you're used to.

You know she'll leave.

Once she catches her breath.

Once she fights with herself in her head.

Until then you'll lay here.

Stroke her arm.

Listen to her heartbeat slow, return to normal.

It's these moments you live for. The quiet moments after you've both shattered.

The ones you chase all day, every day.

Since you knew what was at the end of the race.

Since that first time she touched you, let you touch her, kiss her, love her.

You sense the shift before you see it.

She's come down now.

And she'll leave.

Just like she always does.

And you'll let her.

You roll away and you cover your bare chest with your sheet and you let her.

You let her, because you feel it.

You feel everything for her.

And this is what she needs to do now.

Even though you thought you two were past this.

And you feel the pressure build and build inside your chest. It's going to keep hurting, every time it hurts more when it should hurt less.

You should be used to this by now.

It should be calloused over.

Not even irritated.

Because even though you ended things with _him_ a while ago.

And even though you've been doing this with her since.

It's her habit.

It's still her habit.

Even though you know how she feels.

Even though she told you what she wanted.

Who she really loves.

Her habit hasn't died.

Not yet.

But your heart feels it every time.

And your stomach sinks.

And it doesn't get easier. It probably never will.

Because she's quicksand.

And you've been caught since day one.

You watch her pull her clothes back on. The too tight in all the right places Cheerios t-shirt and the sweats she always wears around the house.

Your hands remember how it felt to pull both items off of her. They itch and ache with the familiarity of it all.

The way her skin warms whenever you touch it.

Burns underneath you.

The way she inhales.

Like every time she's surprised you want to.

How she wants to go quick, quick, quick.

How she wants you to think she wants to go quick, quick, quick.

But how you always slow her down, calm her.

And take your time.

And how she opens for you.

Even if she can't look at you. Not every time.

But how she kisses you. Like she can't ever get enough.

Like you are water in the desert.

The first rays of sun after a long and bitter night.

LIke you are everything.

Her kisses, her kisses speak more than her words ever can.

She turns around, smiles at you. It reaches her eyes but barely. "See you tomorrow, Britt. Don't forget your Spanish homework." Her voice is soft, but not as soft as it was moments ago.

She gestures to your desk, where your Spanish textbook is sprawled out. The guise of getting her to come over, to come up to your room, to come around your fingers.

And she leaves.

And you're alone with the heaviness in your chest.

Feeling the way it seeps.

Seeps into every inch of you.

From your heart all through your body.

Each beat spreading it, like venom.

Until you feel it everywhere. Even in your toes.

Until it's too much and you stand up and shower it off, warm and soothing water embracing you in ways she can't.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

**Xx**

You don't see her, not in the mornings after.

She doesn't come and find you.

Every other morning she bounds up to your locker, all flirty eyes and soft tone and "_Hi Britt-Britt_."

But the mornings after she touches you, brings you over the edge with her name on your lips, those mornings require more time.

More time for her to pull her walls up even higher.

You always knock them down, eventually.

And you know her routine now.

And it shouldn't hurt.

It should be calloused over.

But it always does.

Because once, just once after what you've shared, you want to see her bright and shining face.

Smiling at you like you're her favorite.

Like she does every other day.

**Xx**

Your eyes find hers in Spanish.

She watches you walk into the room. You can tell she's trying not to, but you felt her eyes on you as soon as you stepped in the door.

You try not to spook her.

You send her a small look, a soft smile in your eyes only.

She sees it.

And smiles back.

You watch her fidget, her pen tapping against her notebook. The tempo matches your heartbeat, pounding in your ears.

You wonder if it matches hers.

When you catch her gaze again, more lustful than before, you think it does.

**Xx**

She passes you a note in class.

It's one of the last days of school and she's brazen about it.

It makes your stomach swoop, the normalcy of it all.

And you go back to what you were.

Because it's what she needs.

**Xx**

The next time you walk into a room, she smiles at you. Big, open.

You're late for glee club, and she's there already. Sitting in your spot in the back row.

And she's smiling.

And her eyes look soft, happy.

And your stomach swoops, swoops, swoops.

When she welcomes you with a "Late again…" you laugh.

But when you feel her pinky reach over and link with hers, you feel it everywhere.

**Xx**

Her eyes on you in the locker room.

Not in a lusty way.

But in an awed way.

Your towel around your neck, the sweat making your shirt stick to your body.

You see her looking at you and you blush.

Your entire body blushes.

And you realize, you realize that it's like gravity.

This thing here.

You two.

Always pulled together.

It's bigger than you, and you know it.

**Xx**

It's late at night when your phone chimes.

Chimes with her sound.

And her name spirals around your head, even in your half asleep state.

And you slide open the text and smile.

And make your way quietly down to the back porch, to let her in.

She looks cold and small, and you pull her into your arms.

She sighs.

She sighs and you feel light, light, light.

**Xx**

It was never a choice, getting swept up in her.

There was never a decision to be made.

It was just her.

Everything you wanted.

And when you think about it, really look deep down and think about it, given the choice, given the actuality of a choice, you would have chosen to get swept away.

Because in the moments when it's just you and her, together.

Alone.

She is everything.

She is more than everything.

And you know she's struggling.

You can see the fight behind her eyes. The way she debates the choice, the choice you never had.

The one asking if it's ok, ok for you to sweep her off her feet.

But what she doesn't realize, what she can't realize yet, is that you already have.

You're waiting for the moment when she does.

**Xx**

She sleeps in your bed.

Just sleeps.

On the nights when you don't touch, she stays. She stays and she curls against you and sleeps.

And you see the worry lines disappear from her forehead.

You can actually feel the tension seep out of her.

It's one of the little things you can file away, tuck in your heart.

**Xx**

Days later, days of early morning locker conversations, and flirty glances and "_Hey Britt-Britts_".

Days later and you see the fire in her eyes.

The fire that ignites in you.

"So… since this is our last exam today, wanna come over?"

Your heart skips a beat.

It's been a long time since she's asked you.

Longer than usual.

You're itchy.

You're itchy and the way her eyes are darkening as she looks at you, has you throwing caution to the wind.

"I'd love to, but only if you wait for me to finish my exam this time. You know I hate conjugations"

Her eyes light up at that, her eyebrow quirks, "Sounds like a plan."

And she turns around and saunters away, like a cat on the prowl.

Her school facade.

But when she turns around to look at you again, and finds you still watching, she sways her hips a little bit more.

Just the slightest change.

Not enough for anyone else to notice.

But for you.

Just for you.

**Xx**

You follow her home.

Anticipation burning in your belly.

But you're hesitant as well.

You don't want this to just be physical.

You like spending time with her.

At home.

At her home, where she's relaxed.

In her atmosphere.

She's usually at your house.

Your house is warm and inviting. Your parents caring and interested.

They love her. Treat her like one of their own.

And you love that.

You know she loves it too.

Her house is big, but empty.

Inviting but not lived in.

Her mother flutters in and out, always erranding or socializing.

Her father a shadow. There but not.

Her house is perfect for those times you get wild.

The heated pool in the back, warm and welcoming, perfect for skinny dipping.

The large family room, with it's plush couches and sound system, perfect for kisses and more than kisses.

The bathroom upstairs across from her room, it's giant tub, perfect for soaking in bubbles, soaking in her.

You follow her in your car, down the familiar streets. You park on in front of the house and she waits for you by her car door. You walk up the familiar path to her door, her pinky tied in yours.

You enter and wait as she shuts the door, placing her bag on the ground.

She looks at you then.

She looks at you with open eyes.

You can see everything.

And you didn't want it to just be physical.

Not today.

But she's kissing you, hard.

And her hand is pulling your ponytail out, threading through the long tresses.

And her voice is moaning.

Moaning into your mouth.

And you won't stop it.

You can't.

You need this.

You need her.

She pushes you towards the living room.

The one so rarely used.

And you pull away from her lips, but she answers your unasked question, "They're out of town for the long weekend."

Her voice is raspy and husky.

The voice she always has when she kisses you.

Or when she's thinking about kissing you.

It sends a jolt through you.

And you let her push you down to the couch.

Climb on top of you.

Nip your skin.

Suck your neck.

You hear your ragged breathing.

She's inside you before you even know what's happening.

You're both still fully clothed.

And it's fast. So fast.

But you don't stop her.

Her fingers feel too good.

You've missed them.

But she gets frustrated by your skirt, the way she can't move how she wants.

And she stops and rips it off.

Her fingers slide back in and it feels even better than before.

She smiles against your skin at your moan, loud, unfiltered.

And when she hits your spot, the only one to ever hit it, it sends you reeling.

And you hold onto her for dear life.

Clutching her back.

Feeling the way her shirt moves against her shoulders.

And she kisses you, when you come back down.

Soft and slow.

So different than usual.

And her eyes are still that warm color.

Her smile shy and small.

It's so cute. You have to kiss her.

She lets you.

She lets you kiss her, and sit her up.

Pull off her clothes piece by piece.

Stare at her.

Adore her.

You want to push her back, hover over her, but she stops you. Moves over you.

She kisses you deep and slow.

Pulls your hands to her breasts.

Shows you how she wants to be touched.

And you let her lead.

Because when she stops kissing you, when you open your eyes, you see her.

She's looking at you.

Deep and soulful.

And she nods her head.

And you enter her and she holds your gaze.

You see the pleasure wash over her face, how her eyes flicker with desire and satisfaction all at once.

She moves her hips, slow and steady, in time with your pace. You can feel how much she wants you, how much she loves this.

It makes your heart pound, pound, pound.

And it's so different this time.

Even though it's not new, you've been doing this for a while now.

You two have been locked in this dance for months and months.

But it's different.

Eye-opening.

And when she breaks, when she gasps and clenches around your fingers, your name falls from her lips.

Strong and sure.

And her eyes, her eyes stay with yours as long as they can.

But she finds them again, right away.

And her smile, her smile is so big and bright, it could light the whole room if it wasn't the middle of the afternoon.

She drops down on top of you, soft and open, and cuddles into your neck.

Both of you still trying to catch a breath.

She kisses your neck, your jaw, your ear.

And you sit and stroke her back, her arm across your belly.

And you fall into a peaceful, easy slumber.

**Xx**

You feel her still there before you open your eyes.

She didn't leave.

She still feels soft, open.

You don't want to wake up and ruin the illusion.

But you hear her giggle in your ear, her voice soft and scratchy from sleep, "I know you're awake, B."

"Mmmm…"

You pull her closer to you, not wanting to leave your cocoon.

You can tell the room around you is dark, the afternoon sun sinking to make way for night.

She kisses your neck softly and hums in your ear.

Her hand lands on your cheek and she tilts your face towards her, capturing your lips with hers.

And even though it's short and soft, a peck.

It feels like so much more.

And you feel fireworks in your body.

She hums again and pecks your lips a few times before nudging your face with her nose, "I'm hungry… wake up, wake up!"

Her impossible cuteness has you buzzing, and you open your eyes to find hers sparkling back.

And you know something has shifted.

You both sit in silence, just looking at each other.

Warm.

She doesn't shy away, or hide. She lets you look.

This is the most she ever has.

Especially after sex.

A smile spreads across her face, "What?"

"Nothing."

"Something…"

"Of course something."

You smile back, and she strokes your cheek. "What do you want for dinner, Britt-Britt?"

And, yes, something has shifted.

**Xx**

She asks you to stay the night.

It's the first time you'll be sleeping together after sleeping together.

It feels weird, but impossibly wonderful.

You don't have school tomorrow or anymore exams, you're officially free now, but even if you did you would have said yes.

When you pull her borrowed clothes over your head for the night, you let yourself inhale the scent of her that lingers on them.

For the first time you let yourself think it might work, it might settle.

**Xx**

She kisses you deep and wanting in bed that night.

You both crawled into her sheets with all the intention of sleeping, but the room around you stilled into that loud quiet, the kind that happens when you know sleep won't happen.

But you sat there willing it.

Until you felt her turn into you.

Her hand on your waist, her breath on your neck.

And you moved closer to her too.

Closer and closer until her lips were on yours.

And she's kissing you in the way that makes you understand anything anyone ever said about love.

And she rolls over and takes you with her, stripping her shirt off your back.

And the way she touches you, grazes your skin, is so different from that first time her hands ever wandered. She's sure and strong, unquestioning.

She takes her time.

She makes you feel every bit of pleasure.

She lets you feel her skin against yours, hot and enticing.

She fits you two together and you can feel the spark, the slow burn.

You didn't know it could ever feel like this.

That you could ever feel her like this.

And you both chase the edge together.

And it's the hardest you fall.

**Xx**

It takes you both a long time to recover.

She doesn't hide this time either.

You lie there on top of her dark sheets and breathe, letting the cool air of the room soak into your sweat soaked skin.

"I've been wanting to do that again for a while…" her voice is shy.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well… it was pretty amazing."

"Yeah." Still shy.

"Santana…."

"Britt…."

"I liked that. I loved that."

She turns to you and smiles, "Me too."

"We can do that whenever you'd like." It comes out of your mouth before you can stop it. You never really talk about what you do.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah." you nod enthusiastically and she giggles.

She giggles and your heart leaps.

"I think…" she stops, bites her lip. You know she's trying to say something serious but her lips are already swollen and looking kissable. They're always looking kissable. "I think I want to do this more often."

"Scissoring or…?" you try to stay light but she looks at you and you know she's not in a light mood.

"This. You and me. Us. This whole…. whatever this is."

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Yes."

"I just, want to stop hiding from you…. but I don't want anyone to know."

You look at her, really look, making sure she sees you, "No one else has to know, Santana."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Are you sure that's ok?"

You know it is, right now. You know it's ok for the moment. If this is the Santana you'll have, the one that doesn't want to hide from you, you'll hide it from everyone. You'll do it for her.

You'll do anything for her.

Anything she says.

Especially the things she asks and says with her hands.

And the way she smiles at you, big and unencumbered, full and beautiful.

It lights up your heart.

"I'm sure." And you smile.

And you kiss her, sure and strong. Full of feeling.

And you let hope fill you up.


End file.
